Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.
I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
He that desires to print a book, should much more desire, to be a book.
Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
There is hook in every benefit, that sticks in his jaws that takes that benefit, and draws him whither the benefactor will.